


A Kiss to Build a Dream On

by Daisygirl35



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Music AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-08 18:17:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11652039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daisygirl35/pseuds/Daisygirl35
Summary: Will just wants to survive Samwell so he can live his dream of becoming a music teacher. One thing is for sure, Derek Nurse is not going to make it easy for him.





	1. This one time at band camp

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is my first fic, so please be nice. I'm sure it'll get better the more I write. Anyway, I have loads of ideas for this universe, so hopefully I'll be writing a lot. Basically, the whole gang still attends Samwell, but instead of playing hockey, they're all music students. If any of you play an instrument, please leave some of your favorite pieces because I am just a mere flute player. Kuddos and comments are always appreciated! The title is from the song A Kiss to Build a Dream On by Louis Armstrong.

Will took a deep breath as removed the key from the ignition of his truck. _Everything is going to be fine_ , he thought to himself. He took another deep breath in order to slow the pounding in his chest. Will was parked outside of the practice field for the first day of band camp. He still wasn’t sure if marching band was really his thing. He had liked it well enough in high school, but college marching band is different. There was no competitive aspect, which was the part he enjoyed. It wasn’t even like he got to march. Will played bass, so he would be in the pit, but he could not say no to the four hundred dollar stipend he got for marching.

Will slipped out of the front seat, got his bass out of the back of his truck, and made his way to the practice field. Even though he was fifteen minutes early, the practice field was swarming with members. Sections mingled together, greeting each other after a long summer apart. A couple low brass members were playing “Louie Louie.” _I guess some things don’t change no matter where you are_ , Will thought. He headed towards where he assumed the other pit members were setting up when a short girl in a black crop top jogged over to him.

“You look a little lost bro. Are you Will, the new bass player?”

“That’s me,” Will said. The girl stuck her hand out, and Will shook it.

“The name’s Larissa Duan, but everyone calls me Lardo. Come on, I’ll introduce you to the rest of your section.” Will followed Lardo to the front of the field where she introduced Will to his section leader, a tall, broad guy named Chad. He gave off a bit of a douchey vibe, but Will said nothing. “I’m the manager of the band,” Lardo said. “So if you need anything ask me. Don’t ask the drum major. Unless it has something to do with the actual music, he won’t have an answer. I will.”

“Got it,” Will said. Lardo gave him a brief nod and walked over to who he assumed was the drum major, a tall, strong looking guy with dark hair. Standing with him was a small blonde guy holding a large flag. They seemed to be deep in conversation.

He plugged in his bass and started to tune. Seemingly out of nowhere, a boy in what seemed to be a San Jose Sharks tank top popped out.

“Hi! You must be Will! I only know that because you weren’t at the section meeting yesterday, not because I’m creepy or anything!”

“Yeah I had to work back at home,” Will said, taken aback by this kid’s sheer enthusiasm. A wide smile overtook his face, revealing a set of teal and black braces covering his teeth.

“Well I’m Chris Chow! I play auxiliary percussion so I’ll be right behind you! I know you’re new, but are you a freshman or a transfer? I’m a freshman, so-”

“Chill C,” said a calm, smooth voice. Will turned his head and saw who he assumed was the keyboard player. “Don’t scare him away on the first day.” Will’s breath caught in his throat because the keyboard player was, for lack of better words, beautiful. His dark skin glowed in the August sun, and equally dark curls peeked out from underneath a green beanie. His arms were thick with muscle. He gave a small smirk. “I’m Derek Nurse. I play keys.”

“I gathered as much. The name’s Will. Bass,” he said, gesturing at the bass in his hand.

Suddenly, feedback erupted from the speaker in front of the drum major podium. Will didn’t flinch. Being a bass player, he was used to the sound. The rest of the band, not so much. They all threw their hands over their ears.

“Sorry about that,” the drum major said into the speaker’s microphone. He had a bit of an accent, but Will couldn’t place it. “For those of you who don’t know, I’m Jack. I’m your drum major for this year.” A few members cheered. Jack looked at the ground and grinned, feeling slightly embarrassed. “Alright guys settle down. We have a lot of work to do and only three days of camp. Everyone get in a block, and we’ll get started.” Will smiled. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all

****

Will groaned as he threw himself face first onto his bed. Today had been awful. Even though it was the last day of camp, his section leader had rearranged the entire setup of the pit in order to separate him and Derek. It was absolutely mortifying. It wasn’t his fault that he and Derek couldn’t stop fighting. He wasn’t trying to pick fights like Chad had said. He and Derek just disagreed on literally everything. They could not agree on how any of the music was supposed to sound stylistically, which proved to be a problem since their parts were very similar. This tended to turn into a loud debate during water breaks until Jack came over and told them to cut it out. Derek got under his skin in a way no one had managed to before. From his brand new iPhone down to his designer sneakers, everything about him radiated pretension. Will’s assumptions were solidified when someone brought up politics during the sectional lunch on Friday. What began as a calm discussion quickly spiraled into a screaming match between Derek and Will. Every time he tried to add his input, Derek interrupted calling him insensitive and a bigot. Eventually Will just left the restaurant, unable to put up with Derek’s presence any longer. It seemed that every second of down time they had was filled with their bickering. Will couldn’t believe he ever found this guy attractive. His internal thoughts were interrupted by the vibration of his phone. He picked up. “Hello?”

“Billy! How’s my baby brother doing? How was camp?” Will smiled.

“Hey Mark. Camp was okay I guess.”

“Just okay?” Will sighed. If he could rant to anyone, it was his older brother.

“There’s just this one guy in my section who gets on my nerves.”

“What about him? BO?” Will snickered.

“No. We just fight about everything, and I mean everything. During a break today, we fought over whether bottled water was better than tap water.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Mark said.

“I know. You should see how bloody it gets when we talk about politics. It’s fucking infuriating. He’s always right, and anyone who has a different opinion than him is automatically the spawn of Satan.”

Mark let out a rumbling laugh. “Sounds like a real piece of work.”

“I know. You can just tell by the way he talks that Daddy gets him whatever he asks for. He's so fucking pretentious.” Will said, his voice full of frustration. “Hey Mark?”

“Yeah bud?”

“Did you ever have second thoughts when you left for school? Like you had made the wrong decision?”

“Feeling homesick already?” Mark said, his voice slightly mocking.

“Shut up,” Will said.

“Of course I had second thoughts. I mean I’d never left home before. Even though I was only two hours away from home, I felt pretty alone. I even thought about transferring to the community college.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah well, I did. But after a while I began to feel less homesick. I started to enjoy the classes I was taking, joined a couple clubs, and really started to make friends. By the time summer came around I didn’t really want to go home. Don’t worry Will. You’ll be fine. Promise.”

“Thanks Mark,” Will said, a smile enveloping his face. His brother always knew how to cheer him up.

“Anytime little bro. If you need anything you can always call me okay?”

“I know Mark,” Will said, rolling his eyes.

“Just making sure. Well I’d better let you go kiddo.” Will told his brother goodbye, and then hung up.

Will sighed as he rubbed his hand over his face. He glanced over at the clock on his bedside table. It was only eight. Restlessness ran through his veins. He had no other plans for the night. He knew that the rest of the marching band was having a party at some guy’s house, Will wasn’t quite sure whose, but he really didn’t feel like going. He needed to be away from crowds for a little bit. Knowing exactly what he wanted to do, Will got out of bed, grabbed his key and strode out the door, making his way to the music building.

When Will was in high school, all of his spare time was spent practicing. Every time he felt restless or anxious, he would throw himself into his music until all of the negative feelings melted away. He didn’t see why that would change now that he was in college. Once he reached the music building, Will made his way to the fourth floor where the lockers were. It was there that his upright bass was stored. He took it and his music folder and made his way to the practice rooms on the third floor.

He picked a room with a window set down his things, leaving the door slightly ajar. He took his bass out, tuned, and began warming up. He made way through the circle of fifths before moving on to his technique book. After working through a couple pages, he shuffled through his music folder. He finally found what he was looking for and set it on his stand: the first movement of Bach’s third cello suite. Will had played it last year for his school district’s solo and ensemble contest the year before. He closed his eye, let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he had been holding, and began to play.

As soon as his bow began to move across the strings, any sort of tension in Will’s body melted away. He poured all of the frustration he was feeling into his runs and allowed himself to finally relax. When he was playing, nothing else mattered to Will. It was as if the rest of the world had faded away. There was only Will and his bass. He allowed the music to overtake him and closed his eyes, trusting his fingers to fall where they were meant to. Will played each note with intention, not allowing a single one to go by unnoticed. He pushed and pulled the tempo at his leisure, and allowed the dynamic level to rise and fall. Without the pressure of contest looming over him, he was allowed interpret and mold the music as he pleased, even if it was not necessarily how the music was supposed to be played. It wasn’t until he finished the piece with a flourish that Will realized he was smiling. When Will played, he was home.

Will was pulled into reality when he heard someone clapping. He turned to the door and saw the short blonde boy from the other day standing in the doorway. Will ducked his head and blushed.

“Oh no need to be shy. You were wonderful!” the boy said, his voice tinged with a southern accent.

“Thanks,” Will mumbled. “I didn’t know anyone was listening.”

“Well sorry for intruding. I was on my way to drop this off upstairs,” he said, motioning to the piccolo case in his hand. “I could hear you playing from the stairwell, and I couldn’t help but stop. You’re really good! Oh where are my manners? My name’s Eric Bittle, but everyone calls me Bitty.”

“I’m Will.”

“Nice to meet you. You’re a freshman right?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“Oh I recognize you from camp. Besides, Jack and Lardo have been talking about you for weeks! They said you were good, but I didn’t realize how good.” Will felt the familiar heat in his cheeks as he blushed again.

“Jack and Lardo were talking about me?”

“Oh of course! Any time a notable freshman joins the band, the leadership team takes notice. It wouldn’t shock me if the faculty’s been gossiping about you since your audition.” Will continued to stare at his shoes.

“I’m really not that notable,” he said.

“Oh please there’s no need to be modest! Dr. Hall, he’s the cello and bass professor, told the leadership team to watch out for you. He was really impressed with your audition tape. You and the new keyboard player are probably our best new members!” At the mention of Derek, Will tensed up. It must have shown on his face because Bitty replied, “Now I know you two don’t get along, believe me the entire band knows, but he’s really good. Apparently he went to some private music high school in New York.”

_Of course he did_ , Will thought.

“Anyway, why are you in a practice room on a Saturday night? The band’s throwing a party tonight. You should come.” Will shrugged.

“I’m not really the party type. Besides, I don’t really know anyone.” Bitty gave will a warm, soft smile.

“Well now you know me. Come on, put that away and we’ll go together. I can help introduce you to everyone. It’ll be fun, I promise.” Will looked at his music and then back to Bitty, weighing the two options in his head. He hadn't planned on going out, but he might not have an opportunity to meet so many people at once, and with Bitty at his side, he won't feel so awkward. 

“Okay I’ll come,” Will decided.

“Great! This’ll be loads of fun I promise! Kegsters always are.”

Will stuffed his music back in his folder and started to pack up his bass. Maybe going to the party would do him some good. At the very least, he could use a drink. He and Bitty made their way to the fourth floor, put away their instruments, and headed off towards the party. A mixture of anxiety and excitement filled Will’s gut as they walked up to what seemed to be a run down frat house. Bitty pulled him up the porch and inside the house.

"Welcome to the haus!"


	2. Band kids know how to party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This chapter focuses on the party at the haus and what ensues after. Thanks again for reading!

Will was immediately overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people stuffed into one small building. There were people grinding against each other in what Will assumed was the living room, a game of beer pong was going on in the hallway, and he swears he saw someone get to second base in the corner. Like he said before, Will wasn’t exactly the party type. This was a whole new experience for him. Some of the faces he recognized from camp, but there were so many people he had never seen before. The entire house seemed to vibrate from the amount of bass pouring out of the speakers. 

“Come on!” Bitty said, his voice straining to rise above the music. “Come and meet the guys!” Bitty continued to pull him further and further into the chaos. Will eventually found himself in the middle of the dance floor. Bitty grabbed the arms of two large guys who were killing it on the dance floor. “Ransom, Holster!”

“Hey Bitty! You made it!” The taller of the two lifted Bitty up in an engulfing hug. Bitty squeaked once his feet left the ground. Once Bitty was back on the ground, the second guy ruffled his hair. 

“My goodness! I was only gone for twenty minutes,” Bitty giggled, clearly not minding the attention. “Where are my manners! Guys this is Will. He’s the new bass player. I’m just introducing him to everyone. 

“Dude! You’ve got some mad skills. I've heard you from the back. I’m Adam, but everyone calls me Holster. I play euphonium. This here’s Ransom.”

“I play trombone.”

Suddenly two girls appeared and began grinding on the two boys.

“Sorry bro, but we gotta go,” Ransom said with a gleam in his eye. Will didn’t need to be told why. 

“See y’all later!” Bitty said as he pulled Will away. “Thirsty?”

“Yeah a bit,” Will said. Bitty guided him through the crowd until he reached a doorway covered with caution tape. A large sign stating  _ HAUS MEMBERS ONLY _   was in the center of the tape. Bitty ducked under the tape and pulled Will with him, leading him into the kitchen. 

The kitchen seemed well in use. It wasn’t nearly as dirty as Will would have pictured the inside of an old frat house to be. It even had a light lemony scent.

“Whatever you do,” Bitty cautioned, “do not drink the tub juice. I don’t know what the hell Shitty puts in it, but it’ll make you sicker than a dog tomorrow if you drink it. Beer’s on the back porch, but I keep the good stuff in here.” Bitty opened the fridge and tossed Will a beer, one that didn’t come in a can. 

“Tub juice?” he questioned. 

“Yeah it’s the signature drink around here. Like I said, don’t ask what’s in it. You just gotta know that’s it’s liquor. A lot of liquor. More than anyone needs to drink for a lifetime.” 

Will nodded. He opened his beer and took a swig. 

“What the hell is this place?” Will asked.

“Marching band house. We call it the haus, as in H-A-U-S. The music department used to have a fraternity, but it got shut down years ago because of some altercation with the lacrosse team. Something about eggs. Or was it glitter? Maybe it was the thing with goats? I don’t know. All I know is something eventually ticked the administration off enough to disband the chapter. The house they used stayed around though. Some guys in the marching band live here now. Everyone else just comes around for parties and such.” Bitty continued to scour the fridge until he pulled out a Mike’s Hard Lemonade. He waved it at Will. “Not really a beer fan, but these are my weakness.” 

“Who all lives here,” he asked. 

“Well Jack lives here, you know, the drum major? But he never comes down during parties. It's not really his thing. Then there's Shitty, he’s the tuba section leader, Ransom, and Holster, who you've already met, and me. Everyone’s welcome though, so you can pop by whenever!” Will knew that he couldn’t just come over without an invitation, but he nodded anyway.  

Bitty took a long swig of his drink and then said, “We’d better get back out there!” Will followed Bitty out of the kitchen, staying as close to him as possible without making it weird. “Let’s dance!” 

Bitty dragged him out to the dance floor yet again as a Beyonc é started blaring out of the speakers. A shriek of excitement escaped Bitty’s mouth as he rushed to the center of the dance floor, abandoning Will to the outskirts of the group.  _ Oh god oh god oh god oh god.  _ Will’s brain was moving a mile a minute. He could feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins. There was a reason he didn’t go to parties that often. Just the thought of being inside a large crowd turned his knees to jello and his brain to mush. 

Will was saved from his own awkwardness when he heard a shrill “Will!” He turned his head, looking for the source of the call and found Chris. He let out a sigh of relief as he could feel the rush of adrenaline begin to slow. Chris beckoned him over, a huge grin plastered to his face. His cheeks were flushed, signaling to Will that he was definitely intoxicated. 

“You’re here! I didn’t think you were coming! This is great Will! Sooooooo great!” Chris leaned heavily into Will’s shoulder as he continued to babble about how amazing it was that Will joined the party. As he nursed his beer and chatted with Chris, he could feel the tension roll off his shoulders. He even caught himself smiling a couple of times. A warmth arose in his chest. For the first time since arriving at Samwell, Will began to feel that he was in the right place. 

Suddenly, a large crash resounded through the living room. Will turned his head towards the source of the sound as a wave of murmurs swept over the dance floor. All of the dancing ceased. From the crowd burst Ransom clutching a very,  _ very  _ intoxicated Derek Nurse. He scanned the room before locking eyes with Will.  _ Oh please god no,  _ Will thought to himself, already predicting what was about to occur. Ransom strode over to Will, his eyes displaying his clear irritation with the current situation. 

“You!” Ransom said, pointing directly at Will. “You’re a freshman right? And in the pit? So you know Derek.” 

“I mean  _ know  _ is a strong word. We’re in the same section but we definitely aren’t friends I mean anyone can tell you that we don’t even get along so-” 

“But you can walk him home. He's way too drunk to be out. Dumbass fell off of the coffee table,” Ransom interrupted Will’s rambling. 

“Don’t worry! We’ve got him!” Chris said, his voice showing more enthusiasm than was normal for walking a wasted person home. 

Will sighed. “Yeah we can take him home.” 

“Great,” Ransom said as he practically dumped Derek into Will’s arms before disappearing back into the crowd.

“Heyyyyy William,” Derek slurred. He clutched Will’s shirt as he fought to stay upright. Will wrapped his arm around Derek’s shoulders, hoisting him up and providing balance. A deep flush ran from his cheeks down his neck.

“Come on C, let’s get out of here,” he said, guiding Derek towards the door. 

Getting Derek down the porch steps in one piece was an adventure of itself, but after that, it seemed to be smooth sailing. They arrived to Chris’s building first. Will gave him a quick wave with his free hand before dragging Derek towards his building. 

“Alright Nurse, which building is yours?” Will asked, trying to hide the irritation in his voice. 

“Hmmmmmm the reaaaaally big brown building,” he slurred. Will groaned out of frustration. 

“All of the buildings look like that dumbass,” Will grumbled. Derek began to giggle. 

“Oh yeah!” 

“Come on, man. I just want to go home,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration.

Derek’s face scrunched up as he tried to recall which building he lived in. 

“Hmmmmmm… Deck-” Derek hiccuped.

“Deckler. Perfect. I live there too, so it’s not too out of my way. Let’s go.” Will hoisted Derek and made his way towards the dorm building. He used the walk over to question all of the life decisions he had made that got him to this point. 

When they finally reached their building, Will used his key to let them inside. With much difficulty, he was able to get Derek to tell him his floor and room number. Much to his dismay, Derek lived on the fourth floor. Miraculously, Will was able to guide him up the stairs without causing major injury. 

Once they reached Derek’s door, Will leaned him against the wall so he could fish the key out of Derek’s pocket. His cheeks warmed as he felt around the inside of his pocket, but he tried not to think about it. He finally found it and opened the door. 

“Okay Derek, you’re home.” Derek stumbled inside and leaned up against the doorway, looking Will straight in the eye. 

“Hey man,” he said, wobbling a bit. “Thanks for walking me home. I know we don’t really get along and all but-” Suddenly Derek stopped, his face paled. 

“Derek? Are you-” Will was cut off by Derek Nurse throwing up all over the front of his shirt. Jumping into action, Will quickly guided Derek into his room. His eyes scoured the room for a trashcan. After finding one near the desk, he thrusted it into Derek’s hands, and then led him to the bathroom. Once there, he stripped off his shirt and crumpled it into a ball, trying not to come in further contact with the vomit. Derek continued to throw up for about ten minutes. Will awkwardly rubbed his back, trying to be helpful but not quite knowing what to do. He wasn't quite sure where the line was when it came to helping an intoxicated person that you don't get along with. Once Derek seemed like he was done, Will led him back to his room and guided him into bed. He left the trashcan next to the bed.

He seemed to be fine now. Will couldn’t see any signs of alcohol poisoning, but just in case he made his way over to the desk and scribbled his phone number onto a piece of paper. After that, he opened Derek's fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. He made his way to Derek's bed, and shoved the water into his hands. 

"Drink," he said sternly. Derek sipped the water.

“I’m going back to my room now. If you need anything, this is my phone number. Call me. I live right downstairs, so I can get to you faster than Chris or someone.” 

Derek’s eyes drooped. He grunted. Will didn’t quite know what it meant, but it didn’t scream “I’m in immediate danger please help me,” so he left with his puke-soaked shirt in hand. 

Once he was inside his own room, Will could feel the exhaustion deep in his bones. He dropped his shirt into the hamper, threw himself on his bed face first without even taking off his jeans. Before he got the chance to, he was pulled into a deep, heavy sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay I was finally able to stop procrastinating and write another chapter! Now that I'm starting to write more, I feel like it's getting way easier. Again, please be nice. Constructive criticism is always appreciative, but only if it is constructed. Comments and kuddos are always nice too. Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry the ending was abrupt. I literally can't ever end things. So. It'll all come up later but here's a list of what everyone plays anyway. Dex obviously plays bass and is a music ed major. Nursey plays piano and is a performance major. Jack is head drum major and also plays trumpet. He's a performance major. Bitty is captain of the color guard but also plays flute/piccolo. He's a music ed major. Lardo is a cellist. She's also the manager of the marching band and is a performance major. Chowder plays percussion. Ransom plays trombone. Holster plays euphonium. Shitty plays tuba. Farmer plays clarinet. They're all music minors. I promise I'm not going to make Nursey out to be the bad guy even though it seems that way right now. Nursey is not the only problem. We all know Dex can be a piece of shit sometimes. I'm not sure how long this is going to be, but if I can stick with it, it won't be short. No one edited this for me so if there are any errors let  
> me know. Thanks for reading!


End file.
